by JB Lynn
“Relax.” Delveccio twirled his oversized diamond pinky ring. “It’s no skin off my back if he’s in the wind. I was just asking since I might have another job for you, but if you’ve got cops crawling all over you looking for your old man, it’s not a good time.”
Exhaling shakily, I quickly agreed. “It’s not a good time.”
“Too bad. You would have liked this one.”
“Why? I asked curiously.
“Let’s just say you would have found it personally satisfying.” Delveccio smiled at me kindly. “It’s best if we leave it there.”
I nodded. “Why are you here?”
“Antoinette.”
Antoninette is his daughter. I haven’t seen her much, which is weird considering her son and my niece are roomies.
“Is she okay?”
“First, she goes and marries that scum Alfonse.”
I nodded sympathetically. Alfonse had been the one who put Delveccio’s grandson in a coma. He’d also been the first person the mobster had hired me to kill.
“And now she’s fallen for an idiot cop.”
I flinched.
Delveccio nodded his approval, thinking my expression was due to a shared dislike of law enforcement. In reality I’d just been dismayed to find myself connected, however tenuously, to another cop.
“He’s the job?” I asked.
Delveccio raised an eyebrow. “Why would you think that?’
I shrugged, deciding it wasn’t the time to remind him that he’d specifically requested I kill Paul Kowalski, a cop I’d once dated, who’d then tried to kill me. I changed the subject. “Is it Antoinette’s blood on your shirt?”
“It’s the dopey cop’s.”
“You’ve got a cop’s blood on you?” I squeaked nervously, peering furtively up and down the hallway to see if anyone had spotted me talking to the bloody mobster.
“Relax,” Delveccio chuckled. “The idiot was helping Antoinette put together lawn furniture and managed to slice his hand open. She gets queasy at the sight of blood, so I did the right thing and drove him to the E.R.” He winked at me slyly. “Never let it be said that I’m not a fine, upstanding citizen, right?”
I nodded weakly.
“I’m glad everyone’s okay. I’ve got to go.”
“Ciao, bella.”
“I could use some chow,” the lizard grumbled.
Delveccio took one look at my squeaking chest and burst into laughter that bounced off the walls. “You are one weird chick.” Shaking his head, he disappeared into one of the rooms.
I scurried away, muttering at the lizard holed up in my bosom, “Tell me again why I agreed to bring you? Oh yeah, it was because you promised to keep your mouth shut when I’m talking to others.”
“But—” he protested.
“Save it.” I blew through the hospital exit, heading for my car. “I’ve got enough to worry about. I don’t need you to complicate things for me.”
“Hmmmphhh.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?’
“You complicate life plenty on your own,” the little guy said haughtily.
“No I don’t.”
“Oh no? Then why are you helping Loretta with The Corset, Marlene with her pimp, Whitehat with this Joy woman?”
“Because Whitehat will send me to prison.” I unlocked my car.
“And the others?”
“They're family,” I muttered climbing behind the steering wheel. I pounded on it for emphasis. “You’ve got to help out family when they need it.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” a voice said from the backseat.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhh!” the lizard and I screamed simultaneously.
Chapter Sixteen
I guess that if you’re going to have a heart attack when someone pops up in your backseat, a hospital is probably a good place to do it.
That was the only silver lining I could think of when I saw my father’s face reflected in my rear view mirror.
“Get out!” I yelled, fueled by a mixture of fear and anger that made my heart pound. “Out! Out! Out!”
He didn’t budge. “Sorry I scared you, Maggie May.”
I twisted in my seat so that I could glare at him head on. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.” He offered me a conciliatory smile, looking more like a benevolent store Santa with his white hair and chubby cheeks than a lifetime criminal.
“More like you want something from me,” I countered, willing myself to stay angry with him.
He blinked, looking hurt.
“Do you have any idea of how many people are looking for you?” I asked.
“Lots?”
“Yes.” I spun around so that I was staring out of my dirty windshield. “And half of them are camped out on my doorstep.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“If you were, you’d turn yourself back in.”
“But I needed to see your mother before I testify.”
I grit my teeth, hating the lovelorn tone of his voice. I suspected his obsession with his wife might lead to his ultimate downfall. “Why? Never mind. Don’t answer that. You do realize that the marshals and cops aren’t the only ones looking for you, don’t you? I’m surprised the Lubovsky family hasn’t broken down the B&B’s doors.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a tiny bit overdramatic?”
I frowned at his reflection. “I have other problems that are more pressing than your desire to see Mom.”
“Like what?”
“Like contending with Marlene’s terrorizing psycho pimp. And Loretta’s going to lose The Corset. And someone injured Templeton. Not to mention I’ve got—” I clamped my mouth shut, realizing I’d almost revealed my relationship with Ms. Whitehat.
“Loretta’s losing The Corset?”
“She lost the title.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Apparently it disappeared around the time her mother died.”
“Your grandmother,” Dad chided gently. “Not that I was ever fond of the crazy old bat, but you should show her some respect.”
“Calling her a crazy old bat is respectful?”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, I need you to help me see your mother.”
I’d just told him that his other living daughter was being terrorized by a pimp, and he was focused on visiting the woman in the loony bin. That’s my dad in a nutshell.
My fear and anger seeped out of me, leaving me exhausted. I slumped in my seat. “I can’t.”
“Oh course you can.”
“No, Dad, I can’t. Not even if I wanted to. The marshals and probably the Lubovsky clan knows that there’s a good chance you’ll try to see her.”
“That’s why I need you to bring her to me. Check her out for the day.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, trying to remain calm. It didn’t work, so I counted to ten again. Finally, when I could speak without screaming, I said, “You don’t think it would look suspicious if I waltzed in there and checked her out for the day like she’s a freaking library book?”
He sat back in his seat, looking like the Grinch had stolen his Christmas.
“Please, Maggie… It’s important.”
I squared my shoulders. “No.”
“But—”
“Absolutely not,” I reiterated forcefully. “I can’t help you, Dad. I’ve got too much on the line.”
I let him think that I meant custody of Katie, when in fact I was more worried about Whitehat and Delveccio at the moment.
“I understand.”
“I could drive you to the B&B. I’m sure there’s someone there that can return you to Protective Custody.”
“Not yet. I have some things I need to do first.”
He leaned over the seat and awkwardly pressed his lips to my ear in the semblance of a kiss. “You’re a good girl. Katie’s lucky to have you.”
Tears prickled my eyes and my throat closed as he climbed sl
owly out of the car. “See ya around, Maggie May.” He gave a brief wave and lumbered away.
Dashing away tears with the back of my hand, I took a deep breath and started the car. Then I remembered something. I rolled down the window and yelled after him, “Hey, Dad?”
He turned back. “Yeah?”
“Does dingbat mean anything to you?”
“Like: Your old man is a dingbat for asking you to help?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I shook my head. “Never mind. Thanks anyway.”
I put the car into gear and eased my foot onto the gas pedal.
“Well that—” God began.
“Maggie?” Dad shouted.
I hit the brakes.
Gut jiggling, he strode toward the car. “I thought of something.”
I braced myself for another of his hare-brained schemes.
“It’s probably nothing,” he said slowly.
I reminded myself to remain calm.
“Your grandmother, when she didn’t know the name of something, she’d call it a doohickey or a thingamabob.”
“Sure. Aunt Loretta’s favorite word is gizmo.”
“But your grandmother was also known to call things dingbats.”
“People,” I corrected automatically. “People are dingbats.”
“Amen,” God muttered from my chest.
“No,” Dad insisted. “She called things dingbats too.”
Something in his voice made me squint at him suspiciously. “Are you thinking of a specific dingbat?”
“I know I am,” the lizard groused.
Dad had the good sense to look ashamed as he admitted his guilt. “There was this pocket watch. Well there was no watch inside, but the case was gorgeous. Brass and engraved with flowers.”
“Big enough to hold a folded up sheet of paper?”
“Sure.”
I tried not to let my excitement show. Had I just figured out where the paper Loretta needed to keep The Corset was hidden? “Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you looking like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. You stole it from Loretta’s jewelry drawer, didn’t you?”
He considered his answer a long time before answering. “Yes and no.”
I threw the car into park before succumbing to the temptation of running him over.
“What does that mean? You stole it, but not from the drawer.”
“It was,” he hesitated, searching for the right word. “It was liberated from the drawer, but not by me.”
“Then who?” I asked, wondering who else could want something badly enough to steal it.
I looked Dad in the eyes as we said simultaneously. “Mom.”
“Does she still have it?”
He shrugged. “The last time I visited, it was still in her locked box of personal belongings.”
I winced remembering how Mom had carried on when they’d tried to take that box from her. “But wouldn’t one of the sisters have seen it while visiting her after all these years.”
He shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’m the one who gave the box to Mary. It’s got a false bottom.”
I frowned, unsure if I was pleased with the latest development. “Get in the car.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering him, I put pulled my seatbelt across my chest, fumbling for the latch.
“Aaaaah!” God screamed.
“Not now,” I growled.
“You’re crushing me to death,” he gasped.
Immediately, I release the seat belt and scooped a hand into my bra to pull the little guy out. “I am so sorry.”
“You almost killed me,” he ranted, massaging his chest.
I felt awful for having nearly committed lizard-cide. Despite all his flaws (and he certainly has more than his fair share), he’s my best friend. I couldn’t hold back the tears. “Sorry,” I cried softly.
“I have sensitive skin. There will be bruising.”
“I’m really, really sorry.” I sobbed hysterically.
“Maggie?” Dad asked worriedly, reaching into the car to put a steadying hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“I could have killed him,” I wept.
“Killed who?”
I held up the lizard who’d sprawled out on my palm, doing his best death-bed impression.
“It’s a lizard.” Dad sounded slightly incredulous and more than a little concerned.
“He. He is a lizard,” I corrected automatically. “He doesn’t like to be called ‘it.’”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Dad smoothed.
I wondered if that was the condescending tone he used on his wife when she lost it.
Sniffling, I placed God on the dashboard, wiped away my tears, and cleared my throat. “Get in the car, Dad.”
“Why?”
“We have to go see Mom.”
And Griswald had thought the B&B is a nuthouse….
Chapter Seventeen
It was too late to go to the mental health facility where Mary Lee resided. Instead, I bought Dad a six pack and a bucket of fried chicken and used the stack of cash Patrick had taught me to always have stowed in the car for emergencies to rent a room for the night in the seediest motel in town. It was a place that usually rented out by the hour and the greasy desk clerk had trouble calculating the math that would bring check-out time to daylight hours.
While I would have been too skeeved out to stay there, it didn’t seem to bother Dad. He promised he’d hide out there overnight and wait for me to pick him up in the morning.
I’d just left him when my phone rang. I glanced at the number and saw that it was Aunt Susan calling. I let it ring three times before answering with a teasing tone. “Worried I’m going to miss my curfew?”
“I’m concerned that you gave me the slip,” Detective Brian Griswald replied dryly, not sounding the least bit amused.
“I didn’t give you the slip.” Hoping I didn’t sound as flustered as I felt, I looked to God for guidance.
He was curled up in a ball, on top of the dashboard. “Avoiding drama,” he coached with a yawn.
“I wasn’t avoiding you, Detective. I was just avoiding some of the family drama. Can you blame me?”
“I guess not,” he said slowly.
“It’s a bad habit I picked up as a teenager,” I confided. “Slipping out before anyone can give me a hard time.”
“But you’re safe?” Brian Griswald asked, some of the tension leaving his voice.
“Yeah. I visited Loretta and Templeton in the hospital.” I crossed my fingers as I prepared to lie. “Then I went for a drive to clear my head.”
“You’ll be back soon?”
I glanced at the car’s clock. It was 7:32. I was supposed to be saving Joy by eight. “I was going to run some errands, maybe visit a friend, but if you need me back there…” I trailed off hoping the detective would take pity on me.
“Okay. But you’re not going to break curfew, right?” I could practically hear the smile in his voice.
“Not if I can help it.”
“I’ll see you later then. Just check in when you get back.”
“You’re staying there?”
“All night.”
“You’re a brave man.”
“Not brave enough to go it alone. Mike’s joined me.”
“Great.” I tried to sound enthusiastic despite the fact I wasn’t pleased that the marshal and the detective were staying under the same roof as I was.
“Have fun.” Brian disconnected the call.
Before I could even put my car into gear, my phone buzzed again.
“What?” I asked exasperated, not even bothering to look to see who was calling.
“You’re running out of time, Ms. Lee.” Ms. Whitehat’s voice, chillier than usual, raised goose bumps on the back of my neck. “This is a very time sensitive matter.”
<
br /> “I know. I know,” I muttered.
“There will be repercussions if you fail.” White hat disconnected the call.
Driving like the hounds of hell were chasing me to get to Joy Gilbert’s before eight, I cruised to a stop across from her address with three minutes to spare, parking in the darkest spot on the street.
“Now what?” I wondered aloud.
“You don’t have a dingbat prediction to help you?” God mocked.
“He sport. Port she. Hop rest. Take your pick. None of them make any sense.”
“Are you really going to see your mother?” the lizard asked, making it clear he couldn’t decipher the psychic clue either.
“I’ve got to. If she’s got that watch…”
“But if they catch you helping your father,” he warned, “who knows what could happen. You could go to jail or lose custody of Katie.”
I frowned, feeling like I was stuck between obligations. Did I do the safe thing so that my relationship with Katie wasn’t endangered? Or did I help Aunt Loretta retain her shop?
“Of course it’s understandable that you wish to assist your father,” the lizard mused aloud.
“No I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Then why hide him tonight and bring him along tomorrow?”
“I need him to open the box so I can get the dingbat.”
God exhaled loudly, signaling his frustration.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“Do you really believe that you’re incapable of opening a box without him?” The challenge in his tone was unmistakable.
Instead of answering him, I stared harder at the front of Joy Gilbert’s house, hoping my reason for being there would magically manifest itself. The collection of grinning ceramic frogs that lined her front yard didn’t seem to fit her unreadable cop demeanor.
“It’s not about the box,” God pushed.
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not about the box.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t want to face her alone.”
“Your mother?”
I nodded. Then realizing he couldn’t see me in the dark, I said gruffly, “Yeah.”
“I thought things were better between the two of you. I thought you’d reached some level of acceptance after she attended Alice’s wedding.”
